The Synod on the Family
October 13, 2014 By 1 Comment

The Synod on the Family

Posted on new.va

Posted on new.va

The Synod on the Family, called by Pope Francis, is into week two. The first document has been released. It is really a summary of what has been discussed thus far. The rest of the week will be spent with the bishops in small groups, refining the document that then will be released. As noted in NCR’s article, the document speaks in new tones of listening and recognition of the dignity of persons, and with mercy.

Still, I find myself bristling at the continued use of the word “failure” or “failed” in discussion of divorced people. Yes, truly listening to the concerns and realities of ordinary people is a step forward and perhaps heralds a coming openness to change in policies that do not reflect the love and mercy of Jesus. Still, as one who is divorced and who has worked with women in abusive situations, I must say that many times, leaving a marriage is not a “failure,” but a success. To stay in a relationship that has become oppressive, that no longer is life-giving, or that has become abusive simply to “obey the rules” is not something to encourage.

In some of these situations, if the spouses (or spouse) would pursue an annulment, the church might say the sacramental marriage was invalid, it never happened….But many do not pursue such a course. The church should respect the persons involved, not calling them failures, but supporting them as they move on.

A topic completely missing from the discussion is that of the transgender community. (Read entire document here.) Often overlooked, the “T” in “LGBT” needs to be considered. Many transgendered people have left the Catholic church after enduring humiliating experiences including the suggestion that they be exorcised for the demon within. The lack of understanding of current medical and psychological knowledge about this reality is a glaring omission.

Today, the issues of the transgender community are becoming more and more visible in the media and social consciousness of the reality has grown. The Roman Catholic Church needs to follow that lead.

The current movement is hopeful. We’ll see how far the Spirit leads and how far the Church follows.

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The Heavens Declare the Glory of God
October 8, 2014 By Leave a Comment

The Heavens Declare the Glory of God

PHOTO: Mary van Balen

PHOTO: Mary van Balen

 

I’m always ready for a celestial event, but Ohio skies do not always cooperate. Many are the times I stood under the canopy of night sky, looked up, and saw only darkness. I contented myself with the knowledge that beyond the cloak of clouds, meteors were falling, Mars was passing close, or the moon was being eaten by earth’s shadow. But early this morning, Ohio skies were clear and the full lunar eclipse was spectacular.

I texted and called my daughters, made tea, placed my kitchen step stool on the driveway and settled down to watch with my eyes, binoculars, and a monocular purchased for star gazing.

The heavens declare the glory of God; and the sky manifests God’s handiwork. Day after day proclaims it and night after night shows it forth…

My buddy, Orion was watching, too, his broad shoulders and belted sword visible over my shoulder. Comforting. Orion has been my guardian for years. When my marriage was floundering, I stood on our side porch and felt the overpowering presence of someone taking care of me. Oriron was God’s messenger, silently telling me that Love was Present.

PHOTO: Mary van Balen

PHOTO: Mary van Balen

There is no speech, nor language, nor is their voice heard, yet their proclamation has gone forth through all the earth and their message to the end of the world…

So, it was fitting to sit under the night sky and watch with Orion as the moon turned from bright to red. Lunar eclipses show off the sphericalness of the moon. Sometimes, it looks like a flat silver disk in the sky. Not during an eclipse-definitely a ball. Even with my unaided eyes, I could make out the craters and seas. Once completely in earth’s shadow the moon’s details were easier to see.

A few joggers went by, and a few cars. I wondered if they were looking at the sky or simply straight ahead. The earth, sun, and moon were showing off their glorious dance through the cosmos with a spectacular move, like a deep dip in ballroom dancing, just to make sure we notice how marvelous they are.

Give thanks to the Lord, for the Lord is good….to the Lord who by wisdom made the heavens, for the Lord’s mercy endures forever…to the Lord who made the great lights, for the Lord’s mercy endures forever; the sun to rule the day, for the Lord’s mercy endures forever; the moon and stars to rule the night, for the Lord’s mercy endures forever…

PHOTO: Mary van Balen

PHOTO: Mary van Balen

In the quiet of the morning, in the splendor of the eclipse, I knew we, on the spinning sailing earth, are but a speck. I know we are making a mess of things: wars, pollution, gouging the earth for oil and gas and gold and jewels, changing the climate, and trashing the landscape. We hate as much as we love. We destroy as much as we create. Yet, there is hope. In spite of our weaknesses we do love. We do create. Like the moon in eclipse, we sometimes fall into shadow, but God’s light shines, ready for us when we are ready for it. The cosmic dance continues, and Orion reminds me that Love remains…the Lord’s mercy endures forever.

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Tenderness and the Cross
September 18, 2014 By Leave a Comment

Tenderness and the Cross

Saint John's University Arboretum PHOTO: Mary van Balen

Saint John’s University Arboretum PHOTO: Mary van Balen

Originally published in The Catholic Times September 21, 2014

I have a friend who’s leaving to spend a year living and working in the L’Arche community in Trosly, a small town north of Paris, France, so I was particularly interested in the interview with L’Arche founder, Jean Vanier, in the recent issue of the National Catholic Reporter. (For those unfamiliar with L’Arche, it is an international organization that forms communities of people with mental disabilities and those who live and care for them.)

As I read the article, two words stood out. First was “community.” Vanier sees individualism as “the greatest evil of our time,” and says that people enter the world of individualism to show how good they are and often that they are better than the rest. It’s a proving ground.

Community, on the other hand, is “a school of love.” There we reveal our woundedness and needs as well as respond to the needs and woundedness of others. Community is transformational. It isn’t easy as any person

living in one can attest. Community isn’t always marriage, family, or religious life. It can be our parish or work community, extended family, a close circle of friends or coworkers for a common cause. Whatever form it takes, true community requires sacrifice as well as celebration.

The other word was “tenderness.” Vanier referred to a psychiatrist who, when asked for a sign of maturity, said “tenderness,” and understands tenderness, not non-violence, to be the opposite of violence.

While speaking of those with disabilities who come to L’Arche, Vanier noted the importance of helping them discover their preciousness and beauty, not so much by what is done, but by “being with.” Listening, treating them with respect, with tenderness, that is where transformation happens. “What is important,” Vanier says, “is relationships.”

Our world is broken, and all carry pain within. Many people expressed surprise after discovering Robin Williams had been battling deep depression for years. As Vanier suggested, those types of wounds are not shared in the world of individualism, but in community.

Some people’s struggles are more visible resulting from ignorance, fear, and oppression. The poor. Women. The LGBT community. People of color. Homeless people, many of whom suffer from mental illness. How do we respond to them with tenderness? My experience tells me that “being with” is what opens my heart to those I might otherwise see only as “other.”

Before reading this interview, I was working on a column reflecting on the mystery of last Sunday’s feast, the Exultation of the Cross. As I read about L’Arche, the two themes wove themselves together: The cross present in the living of community, and tenderness both leading to and flowing from embracing the cross.

Sunday’s mass collect put me off: “O God, who willed that your Only Begotten Son should undergo the Cross to save the human race…” I’ve never been able to get my head around the image of a God who would demand a bloody sacrifice, of a son, no less, to appease Divine justice. Unfortunately, that is often the approach taken to make sense of Jesus’ suffering and death. It just doesn’t fit with Jesus’ image of God as “Abba,” “Daddy.”

PHOTO: Mary van Balen

PHOTO: Mary van Balen

This intimate address to a parent exudes tenderness, not retribution. There’s the father who welcomes home the prodigal son, the mother hen who gathers and protects her chicks, the shepherd who looks for lost sheep.

Then there’s Jesus himself who tells his followers, “When you see me, you see the one who sent me.” Jesus ate with sinners, hung out with those on the fringes, embraced children, and preached giving oneself for others. When asked why he spent time with such people, Jesus replied, “Go and learn the meaning of the words ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’”

Jesus spoke of God as community, Trinity and invited us to join in. As Vanier noted, community transforms. Community with God transforms completely.

No, I can’t imagine God willing Jesus to suffer. While I’m familiar with doctrines of substitutional, even penal atonement, I have to go with my prayer and my heart. The world couldn’t cope with the radical love and truth of Jesus, and rather than abandoning who he knew himself to be, Jesus embraced the cross his faithfulness brought. His death and resurrection poured the salve of unconditional love on the wounds of humanity, and calls us to do the same. Community. Tenderness. Jesus asks us to share in his cross and resurrection, opening the door to a transformative relationship with God and all God’s people.

 

© 2014 Mary van Balen

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Grace Overflowing
May 10, 2014 By Leave a Comment

Grace Overflowing

PHOTO: Mary van Balen

PHOTO: Mary van Balen

Originally published in The Catholic Times, May 11 2014 issue

 

Despite working until close at Macy’s on Holy Saturday night and arriving home around ten-thirty pm, I had energy and decided to bake hot cross buns. Well, I had energy until they were ready to rise the second time. Dragging, by three in the morning, I was savoring the warm, cinnamony-sweet results and cleaning the kitchen.

When the alarm sounded at 7:45, I wasn’t sure I could pry myself out of bed. “I could go to 11:30,” I thought. No. Nine o’clock was the mass I wanted to attend, sleepy or not. After a shower and a strong cup of tea, I headed out to St. Thomas the Apostle where the parish family was gathering to celebrate Easter.

The church was packed, and even though my usual place was taken, I found a seat next to a lovely older woman wearing an amazing hat. Remember Easter hats? As young girls, my sisters and I had new hats each Easter. Hats. Dresses. White gloves. Part of the ritual.

The altar was surrounded with flowers and on the ledge at the bottom of each stained glass window sat a potted spring bulb flower: hyacinths, tulips, daffodils. The tight buds were beginning to loosen, and hints of color were peeking out. A quite murmur rested in the church as people wished one another “Happy Easter” and caught up on the week before. Then the music began.

One of the many things I love about Saint Thomas is the spirited singing accompanied by a variety of instruments. Organ, piano, guitar, flute, drums, tambourine, trumpet, and on Easter I think I heard a trombone. Someone can set me straight if I’m wrong. It doesn’t matter really. What matters is that people are welcome to share their talents and that so many do!

I don’t remember all the songs we sang that morning, but I remember the joy with which they were sung, the clapping to the rhythm, the harmonies. A favorite “sprinkling” ritual at that parish is the procession up the center aisle to a large earthenware bowl that holds baptismal water. Pews empty out one by one, and when each person reaches the bowl, they dip their hand into the water, turn, and make the sign of the cross on the forehead of the person behind them, all the while belting out Marty Haugen’s song, “Up from the Waters.”

“Up from the waters, God has claimed you, Up from the waters, O child of Light. Praise to the One who called and named you, Up from the waters into life…”

Choir members brought up the end of the line, the last two keeping time with their instruments. The tall gentleman who played the tambourine was last. Having no one behind him to bless with the water, he turned, raised his hands and shook the tambourine making a large sign of the cross: He blessed us all, and we applauded our “amen.”

The responsorial song was sung with a strong voice and a bright smile.

And so it went. The celebrant chose to read the Gospel from the Easter Vigil Mass where the two Marys, having been told that Jesus had risen ran “overjoyed” to tell the disciples. They saw Jesus on their way.

The theme of joy ran through his homily, and with a child’s abandon, a young member of the congregation punctuated one of Fr. Denis’s comments with a heartfelt, “Yeah!”

It fit.

A sung Eucharist Prayer, shared peace, shared communion. The wine was sweet. Sun poured into the windows, waking the flowers as we sang our Alleluias and closing hymn. No one was in a hurry to leave. I told the lady next to me how much I liked her hat, then found some friends who had been across the aisle and exchanged Easter greetings.

I lingered, soaking in the Mystery and Grace, and then made my way across the parking lot. Coming out from the common room in the basement, a few people were carrying boxes of candy-filled plastic eggs to scatter for the Easter egg hunt that would follow the later Mass.

Waiting for the traffic light at the corner to change, I looked at the green grass beside the rectory and church. It was absolutely covered with colored eggs. An abundance. I hadn’t kept Lent particularly well, yet there it was, God’s gift of Self overflowing. A never ending Fountain Fullness as a Franciscan friend says. I put down the car window, waved, and took a deep breath, glad I had pulled myself out of bed for nine o’clock Mass.

A joyful Easter Season to you all.

© 2014 Mary van Balen

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Canonization Unease
April 23, 2014 By Leave a Comment

Canonization Unease

JPII and JXXIIINext Sunday, Pope Francis will canonize two very different popes, John XXII and John Paul II. It is a politically astute move since elevating one or the other could have been seen as “victory” for the followers of one over the other. The two popes were very different men who left behind vastly different legacies.

Those who know me know, of the two camps, I fall in behind John XXIII. He was the pope who called the Second Vatican Council to open the windows of the Church letting fresh air swirl around as I was coming of age in a Catholic family and elementary school. The changes begun by VCII went beyond moving from Latin into vernacular in the Mass or increased lay participation in the same. The council engaged the Roman Catholic Church with the modern world and produced documents that influenced the course of the Roman Catholic Church for decades. Still do. But could do more…

John XXIII is remembered as the “good pope,” the one who walked the streets of Rome to meet the people, who was the pastor rather than theologian. (His studies were in Church History.)

John Paul II was also a man of great  influenced not only on the Church but also on the world once he moved onto its stage. He is often credited with playing a large part in bringing down the Communist regime in Eastern Europe. He reached out to people of other faiths, praying in a mosque and at the West Wall in Jerusalem. He called together leaders of many faiths to pray for peace at Assisi. And he reached out to the young Catholics with his charismatic ways.

On the home front, however, he  was, as John L. Allen Jr. said on the occasion of JPII’s death, a pope who “leaves behind the irony of a world more united because of his life and legacy, and a church more divided.” (See NCR editorial “New Papal saints have flaws as well as greatness.”) Some will say the divisions began with VCII.

Naming these two different men “saints” does not make them so, but simply expresses the Church’s conviction that indeed they are enjoying eternal life with the God they gave their lives to serve. It also holds them up as role models for those of us still on our way. This is where my unease enters. Holy people are not required to hold the same political beliefs. They do not have to share the same vision for the direction the Church should go. They are people with histories and experiences that shaped them. They are not perfect. It is not JPII’s vision of the Church, more conservative than my own, that gives me pause. It is his handling the sexual abuse of children and the protection of hierarchy who shielded pedophiles in their dioceses. His calling Cardinal Law to be archpriest of a major basilica in Rome after he resigned in disgrace as archbishop of Boston was devastating. At least to me and to many others outraged by the ability of bishops to transfer known pedophiles from parish to parish or across the country.

We all have faults and need God’s Grace and mercy. I’m not saying I don’t think JPII is a saint as Maureen Dowd says in today’s New York Times op-ed.  I am saying the time isn’t right. I’m not comfortable with  holding him up as a role model when the RCC has yet to deal with the role of hierarchy in the sex abuse scandal in a way that holds them accountable.  I hope Pope Francis will address this issue. Until someone does, the healing cannot be complete.

Many if not most will disagree with me, I suppose, and the canonization will go forward, and life will go on. So will the Church’s struggle to come to grips with the scope of the abuse and the depth of anguish left in its wake. And with the clericalism that allowed it to continue for decades.

 

 

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Showing God’s Merciful Face
August 10, 2013 By Leave a Comment

Showing God’s Merciful Face

Fountain, Rome, Italy, Egyptian Obelisk

Fountain in Rome
PHOTO: Mary van Balen

Fountains are everywhere in Rome. Many famous. Many not. The amazing thing about them is their water is fresh, clean enough to drink. “Keep your water bottle,” my daughter advised when she saw me draining the last drop early in the morning. “We can refill it at the fountains all day long.”

How right she was. People of all ages crowded around the fountains, catching streams of clear, cold water in their plastic bottles. At some places, water in a bottle was not enough, and people put their heads under the spouts or stepped into the shallow pools to find relief from August heat.

I have to hand it to Pope Francis. Rome in August is not for the faint-hearted. His choice to forgo a month in the summer residence takes stamina. So did his trip to Brazil for World Youth Day and his good humor during a long press conference aboard the plane on his return to Rome.

What I find as welcome as water pouring out of Rome’s fountains is the kindness and humility coming from the heart of the new pope. While not signaling changes in Church teaching on homosexuality, which many hope will come eventually, Pope Francis shows God’s merciful face when confronted with the issue.

Responding to questions about the possibility of discovering a gay priest in his service, he said “Who am I to judge a gay person of goodwill who seeks the Lord? You can’t marginalize these people.”

Vatican, Saint Peter's Square

Fountain in St. Peter’s Square, Rome
PHOTO: Mary van Balen

Later on, according to an AP article quoted in a post by Paul Brandeis Raushenbush on Huffington Post’s Religion page, he took reporters to task for asking about an aide who had beensuspected of involvement in a gay tryst ten years ago. That was not an issue of criminal behavior, as abusing children. It was a matter of sin, he said. When someone sins and confesses, God both forgives and forgets.

“We don’t have the right to not forget,” he said.

Refreshing.

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